


Walk with Me Darling, in the Shadows of Forever, Shy Away from the Sun, Stay Here in the Dark with Me

by Wubberduckzilla



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cannibalism, Dark, Force Feeding, Kidnapping, M/M, Monsters, Obsessive Hannibal, Poor Will Graham, Sex, Transformation, Wendigo, Wendigo!Hannibal - Freeform, Wendigo!Will, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-05-11 19:49:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5639782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wubberduckzilla/pseuds/Wubberduckzilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will's been having dreams, dreams he can't remember, with a voice that croons to him in the night. All food tastes like ash and his hunger cannot be tamed. Except for Hannibal's food, which tastes like heaven and for a time, quenches his hunger. Something draws closer and he cannot escape the web he's entangled in- even monsters get lonely and when they find their perfect other they never let them go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dreams that Linger Like Smoke and Are Just As Intangible

Will awoke with a start in the early hours of the morning, entangled in the sweat-drenched sheets. Moonlight broke through the gaps in the curtains, leaving trails of silver across the floor; the multitude of dogs lounging on the rug blearily raised their heads in sleepy curiosity to regard their gasping master. Only Winston rose to wander to Will’s side, placing his head on the bedside, regarding him with gentle confusion. The frantic panting that filled the room slowly evened out as Will stretched out his aching muscles, idly petting Winston on his head. The dark shadows of his nightmare slipped away like smoke; there was only a vague feeling of unsettlement and wrongness that lingered.

With a sigh Will rose and tugged of his damp t-shirt, throwing it in the vague direction of the washing bin. He knew there was no point in showering as the nightmares would inevitably return- not even the comfort of his pack nor his boat-like house could ward off the dark reflections in his mind. Even though his dream has dissipated there seemed to be an itch under his skin that he couldn’t shift.

Buster’s gentle whining brought him out of his stupor. The little dog sat dejectedly by the door, the classic pose for a dog in distress. Will slipped on his worn slippers and old hoodie that proudly proclaimed ‘Remember to stay pawsitive!’ complete with the charming image of a pug in sunglasses, courtesy of Beverly. Despite his insistence he’d never wear it Beverly had given it him anyway, claiming, “You like dogs and you need cheering up with all the crap you see. Besides, blue looks good on you”. To avoid a further confrontation he’d soon caved and accepted it. It soon became his ‘comfy hoodie’, covered in dog fur and dribble, perfect for mid night wanderings.

“Alright Buster, I’m coming.” Even to Will his voice sounded rough. A yawn erupted as he edged the door open and he was shoved out the way by the sudden stampede of very awake dogs.

“Oh, so the second the door opens you all want to play?” He shook his head with a laugh. The night chill seemed to curl around his legs and the inky blackness yawned beyond the porch. A shiver ran down his back and the prickling discomfort of his dream came back full force. He had no idea why he felt so disturbed- the truly bad nightmares he could recall with ease (in fact he couldn’t forget them, no matter how much whisky he drank). For this to be so vague and lingering was strange and did nothing to relieve his worry.

He poured a glass of water before sitting on the couch, waiting for the dogs to relieve their sudden energy burst and bladders. Although, the blood soaked dreams seemed to have become rarer as time went on- ‘possibly due to Hannibal’s unique influence’ Will thought with a small smile. Hannibal’s presence in his life seemed to have grown as the weeks went on, unwelcome at first but Will had slowly warmed to his subtle wit and sarcasm. The biweekly meals had soon become a welcome reprieve from the horrors of the world Jack forced him into.

On the flipside Hannibal’s cooking had quickly ruined any other food for him- everything else seemed to taste blander as time went on, almost grey. In contrast Hannibal’s food seemed to burst with flavour, like fireworks, filling his stomach and warming him from the inside. Even his coffee was sublime and Will thought his taste buds to have been ruined by the toxic swill they served at Quantico, but apparently Hannibal’s coffee was so good even Will’s impaired taste could be saved by it.

As he thought about his upcoming meal his stomach growled and his mouth watered. This new hunger seemed to grow every week, never to be fully sated (though that wasn’t entirely true; Hannibal’s food seemed to fill him up, however temporary). Will hadn’t thought this to be particularly unusual. After all, his diet had been coffee and the odd ready meal until Hannibal had come along. It was probably just his long repressed appetite returning due to him actually eating god food for once.

His dogs slowly began to wander back in. The sound of their nails clicking on the hardwood floor roused him out of his hungry musings, ‘for the best’ he thought, as his hunger only seemed to grow the longer he thought of that lovely, tender meat. Buster skittered past him before he immediately collapsed next to the radiator with a pleased growl. As the dogs settled Will pulled himself up to close the open door. The chill gradually faded as the door clicked shut, locking out the night and it’s horrors (no not horrors Will, wonders, you only have to see them).

Will clutched at the door as he was overcome with dizziness and fatigue as his legs buckled under the sudden onslaught. His breathing quickened and his eyes rolled to the whites.

_(Not much longer now Will. Soon you’ll see. You’ll see everything)_

The shadows became even darker and the dogs shrunk in terror and submission. Only Winston was brave enough to stand tall, growling, fur on end.

The dull thud as knees hit the floor seemed almost muted as the black seemed to suck in all noise –noise that wasn’t him.

_(Go to sleep Will. You need your strength)_

Almost against his will his eyes slid shut, even though he knew something was wrong, something was so terribly wrong, this wasn’t right-

_(Oh it is right Will- nothing is righter than this)_

( _Sleep_ )

_(I’ll see you soon)_

_*_  
Will came to, to dogs yipping and sunlight bleeding through the windows. He groaned as he eased himself off the floor, his body ached from sleeping on something so hard- wait. Hard? It slowly dawned on him he’d slept in front of the door on the unforgiving ground.

He slowly stood up, stretching to work out the kinks in his back. Confusion clouded his mind; why had he slept on the floor? He remembered letting the dogs out for the toilet but beyond that he was clueless. The momentary grogginess was shaken away as he caught sight of the glaring red letters of his clock.

“Shit!” Will snarled as flung open the door before staggering to his cupboard. He was so late; Jack was going to fucking kill him.

It was nearing twelve when Will finally got to Quantico, frantically trying to comb down his unruly curls while juggling his satchel and papers. Luckily he didn’t have any lectures until one but Jack would undoubtedly want his opinion on something. Will’s annoyance grew as he thought about Jack’s increasing reliance on him. Originally, he was supposed to consult only on special cases, the really nasty deranged ones but Jack had begun to use him for more and more common murders. That wasn’t what they’d agreed and the combined weight of consulting and lecturing was beginning to take its toll. Will had no intention of quitting teaching but he knew he’d have to choose and he knew what Jack would try to make him pick.

Surprisingly, he’d managed to make it to his office without bother. He sank down into his chair with a sigh as he took a moment to merely enjoy the peace. Soon enough a knock at the door disturbed him; his annoyance quickly left him as he recognised his visitor.

“Hannibal.” He greeted with a soft smile. “What can I do for you? No appointments today?”

Hannibal smiled his almost invisible smile as he sat down across from him. “Hello Will. Just dropping in to see how you are, I know the stress you’ve been under lately.” He gently placed a thermal bag and flask on the desk before he began unpacking. “I’d say it’s a god thing I dropped in. You look like you left in a rush so I must assume you’ve not eaten?” Though phrased as a question they both knew it to be otherwise.

“You ditched your patients just to bring me breakfast?” Will raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that bad practice, doctor?”

“Ah I’m afraid this isn’t purely a social visit. Uncle Jack called me in to go over the recent ripper kills with the team- he’s bordering on obsessed with catching him now. He was most… insistent on my presence.” Hannibal frowned slightly as he unpacked two Tupperware boxes. “Although it allowed me to share breakfast with you so not all is lost.” A teasing glint appeared in his eyes as his tone changed into something almost intimate.

Will felt the blush crawl up his cheeks and was infinitely grateful for his scruffy beard. The satisfied cast to Hannibal’s face suggested it hadn’t been entirely hidden.

“So what are we eating today?” Will attempted to change the conversation as the delicious aroma reached him. His stomach roared its displeasure at being denied the feast in front of it- in all honestly Will barely cared what it was plated in front of him. The hunger made him almost single minded in his focus on the food.

“A protein scramble. A nod to our first meal.” Hannibal had barely slid the tub to Will before he leapt on it. Will ate with so much gusto he didn’t really hear Hannibal describe the intricate details of the meal- the hunger drove him forward.

Normally, such a display would disgust Hannibal, who would find it the epitome of rudeness, but this was Will and so in the current unique situation he would allow it. Seeing Will devour what he had made, what he had designed, what he had caught was gratifying on a number of levels, both sophisticated and base. He allowed his human suit to slip momentarily due to Will’s distraction and the monster he truly was smiled in smug satisfaction. Not long now, the monster purred.

All to soon the scramble was done and the ache in Will’s stomach died down to a quiet murmur. He looked up at Hannibal in embarrassment only to see him looking at him with a mix of contrasting –tender, hungry, satisfied, hungry, HUNGRY- emotions. They smoothly vanished as Hannibal noticed Will looking- he smiled brightly before gesturing to the empty box. “I see you enjoyed that then Will?” Hannibal teased.

“Oh I’m sorry, that was so rude of me.” Will looked away and so missed the flash of annoyance that rippled across Hannibal’s face. “It’s just I missed breakfast this morning and dinner last night.”

“Please don’t apologise for enjoying yourself Will. I makes me happy to see you eating with such enthusiasm.” Hannibal reached across to take the empty Tupperware, their fingers almost brushing as he pulled it from Will’s hands. “You don’t eat enough,” he gently scolded.

“You’ve been spoiling me Hannibal. Everything else tastes like ash after eating your food- it’s simply sublime. You have an excellent butcher.” Will praised. Hannibal’s expression became smug as he shrugged modestly.

“Years of practice, my dear Will. Even I have made disappointing dishes once upon a time.”

Will snorted. “Hannibal, even your failed meals must’ve tasted delicious. Your palettes too refined.”

“There’s no such thing Will. We simply have to work on yours.” Hannibal poured two cups of steaming coffee from the silver thermos before placing it down gently. Will groaned as he inhaled the heavenly aroma of life giving coffee that quickly got to work on waking up his brain cells. “Speaking of which Will, are you free tomorrow evening? I’d love to have you for dinner.”

“Hannibal. I’d never turn down a meal with you.” Will realised what he’d said and hurried to correct himself. “What I mean is, I’d never turn down what you’ve made. It’s so nice.” He stopped before he could dig himself deeper. “I’ve not been awake enough for intelligent conversation.”

He focused on the warmth leeching from the cup into his hands and watched the smoke curl into the air before vanishing. ‘Like my dream’ Will thought.

Silence developed between the two as they drank their coffee. Will contemplated his recent dreams and odd sleeping habits, whereas Hannibal focused on Will, on the way his fair fell into his eyes and the way his eyes misted as he wandered deeper into his mind.

The silence was shattered by the rather rude arrival of Jack Crawford, who burst through the door as though it had personally offended him. “What a cosy gathering we have here. I thought you were paid to find killers not drink coffee!” Jack snapped, raising his eyebrows.

Will sighed as Hannibal swiftly rebutted Jack. “I was under the impression the meeting was at two, not at a quarter to one.”

“I also have a lecture at one Jack. As you well know.” Will murmured as he sipped his coffee.

“Not anymore you don’t. Alana’s covering. Meeting. Now.” Jack swept out before either could reply.

“That man is insufferable.” Hannibal’s quiet murmur broke the sudden tension. Will snorted in agreement as he slowly stood up while he gathered his papers and stuffed him in his bag.

“I couldn’t agree more. I don’t think he realises I don’t actually work for him.” Will slumped at the thought of another few hours stuck in a room with Jack and his invasive emotions and overwhelming personality. “Hey, isn’t he your friend? Or at least a friendly colleague?”

“The longer I work with him in a professional manner the more my fondness fades. The way he treats you is deplorable.” Hannibal rested his hand on Will’s shoulder and gently squeezed. “I see the damage this work does to you and I care, unlike Jack. I will not allow him to push you like this. It’s making you sick” ‘And you need to be strong now you’re so close. I won’t allow you to break.’

Will looked away in embarrassment. “But I’m saving lives Hannibal,” he protested weakly.

“And what of your life Will?” Hannibal asked, frowning slightly. “You underestimate your value. You are worth far more than the rest of the world.” He stopped suddenly as if he’d said too much. With a sigh he rose, packing the Tupperware and thermos away. “I suppose we should go before Uncle Jack comes back and drags ups down.”

“Yes, I guess.” Will strolled past Hannibal and held the door open. “At least I have my paddle to keep my afloat, hm Hannibal?”

Unseen by Will a jagged smile sliced across Hannibal’s face as his eyes seemed to gleam red.

*

The meeting was as painful as Will had expected. They simply went over the same stuff they’d gone over a thousand times, but with no evidence of traceable motive they were as clueless as they were after the first murder. Jack seemed to believe Will was like a magic 8 ball- he simply needed shaking and shaking until he came up with the answer Jack wanted.

When they were finally allowed to leave Will had missed his lecture, as well as his open office hours and felt a brief flame of pity for his students who had fought ferociously to get onto his course, only to have the professor they wanted once in a blue moon.

As Will and Hannibal wandered at a leisurely pace down the corridor the clicking heels and a bright exclamation of “Hannibal!” caught their attention. Alana walked over with a smile, boots clicking and hair swaying gently in time with her steps. “And Will!” She added, smile dimming only slightly, but enough for Will to catch with his empathy. “How’d the meeting go?” Though she seemed to address both of them it was more directed at Hannibal.

“It went as well as they can Alana.” Hannibal replied cordially, a polite but impersonal smile. “The ripper shows no sign of slipping up or changing his ways so we are stuck I’m afraid.”

“Oh how awful! I’m sure you’ll find something.” She frowned slightly. “Although you shouldn’t get too involved Hannibal- leave the proper stiff to the FBI. You’re only a consult.” She looked down and murmured, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

‘Am I invisible?’ Will wondered, feeling increasingly awkward as he stood on the side-lines. To him, and Hannibal too probably, Alana’s affection was incredibly obvious. He cleared his throat slightly before speaking. “I’m going to head off- I’ve got to get back to the dogs and I’ve got papers to mark.”

“Oh ok. Speak to you later!” Alana said cheerily.

“Good bye Will. Have a safe drive.” Hannibal turned to him and genuinely smiled. Will awkwardly smiled back before he sped off, chased by the phantom pain in his chest.

Although Alana continued to talk Hannibal continued to watch Will walk away and only tore his gaze away when Will had disappeared from sight.

*  
_Soon_ …

*


	2. A Dinner Gone Wrong

Will tried to tame his curls for what felt like the hundredth time. Even in the crappy car mirror he saw his efforts were in vain; each time he smoothed them down they simply sprang back up. As usual he felt as though he was too shabby, too unrefined to be were he was. Hannibal’s house, nee mansion loomed in front of him, lights bright in the growing night, illuminating the perfectly manicured frown lawn and the gleaming Bentley parked up out front. Will personally thought leaving such a car out in full view of the street wasn’t the wisest choice but he seriously doubted Hannibal would ruin the aesthetic of his home for anything. 

He checked the glowing face of his phone for the time and sighed in defeat. He couldn’t wait any longer without being rude, and rudeness was deplorable. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go per say- the food was indescribable and the company more than enjoyable, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place amongst the finery and art. Eventually he knew his insecurity would fade as he grew warm and full but it always reappeared when he’s left Hannibal’s side.

The car door opened with a click and closed with a quick thud. Will’s breath misted in front of him and danced in the night air. With quick but uncertain steps Will approached the door and tapped gently.

Almost immediately the heavy wooden door opened and golden light spilt out. Hannibal seemed to be made of shadow as he blocked out the light, his face cast in darkness and a tingle of unease shot up Will’s back. As he leaned forward Will saw a smile as he was beckoned in.

“Good evening Will.” Hannibal gently grasped the shoulder of Will’s coat and pulled it off. The dog hair covered coat was placed next to Hannibal’s own immaculate one, which caused Will to wince slightly. 

“Hello to you too.” The warmth of the house washed over him, making his cold fingers tingle. He flexed his hands slightly before turning to aim a vague glance in Hannibal’s direction. A hand descended on his shoulder and squeezed faintly before pushing him in the direction of the dining room. Will tensed up, as he was steered forward and he supressed the urge to tell Hannibal he knew where the room was; he’d been there enough. But the hand was so warm and felt nice so he tried to relax and to not read too much into it. ‘Come on Will, he’s just being friendly. This is what friends do.’ Will attempted to reason with himself, unsuccessfully trying to squash the hope that flared up inside him. 

As usual the table was beautifully laid out. The centrepiece this week was purple flowers artistically arranged around black antlers that seemed to reach up and up-

-Antlers split the sky and reared in front of him, threatening, beckoning, calling to him as he reached out only to be impaled again and again and how he loved it-

“Will?” Hannibal’s smooth tenor broke him out of his vision and he looked down to discover his knuckles were white as he gripped the chair. “Would you like to sit down? Dinner will be out shortly.”

“Thanks.” Again Will looked at Hannibal for a brief moment before jerking his gaze away. He dropped into the fine wooden chair as a dull ache began to spread through his head- his vision swam for a second and it seemed as if his world tilted. Everything seemed blurry and dulled, penetrated only by the smells wafting from the kitchen. 

The scent only seemed to grow stronger, as did the roaring pain in Will’s stomach. His mouth began to water and it was almost as though his teeth began to ache in their desperation to chew, rip, devour. A steaming bowl of some kind of meat was placed in front of him; it barely touched the table before Will tore into it, hunger driving him to ignore any and all social table norms. Had Will been in his right mind he would have been appalled at his behaviour, which was no better than an animal’s. 

Hannibal’s explanation of the dish fell on deaf ears as the meal quickly vanished, leaving not even a hint of the sauce behind. The almost crippling pain in Will’s stomach calmed to a duller ache as he seemed to come back to himself. 

In a moment of de ja vu embarrassment flooded through him, turning his cheeks a ruddy pink. “God Hannibal, I’m so sorry! I don’t know what happened, I was just so hungry and I-”

“There’s no need to apologise Will. I know you do not often get time to eat and when you do it is that microwaveable garbage. It’s no surprise your body craves more wholesome sustenance.” Hannibal’s eyes crinkled into a smile as his reply echoed that of yesterday. “Am I to assume you enjoyed it then?”

“Yes it was delicious.” Will laughed, slightly more at ease with Hannibal’s acceptance and understanding. 

“I’m sure it’s just your way of adapting to having actual food for once.” Had Will been watching Hannibal, rather than looking at his plate, he would’ve seen satisfaction and something darker flash across his face. “Will.” Hannibal murmured, “Don’t worry. I’ve said before it is flattering to see my cooking received with so much enjoyment.”

Will’s storm blue eyes flickered up to meet Hannibal’s own maroon ones. Seeing nothing but sincerity there he smiled and relaxed his tensed-up shoulders. 

As the dinner progressed Will ate more calmly, but with equal enthusiasm. Conversation flowed more freely and the tense atmosphere lifted to create that of a friendly, inviting one. Hannibal talked of his time in Florence and of his boarding school in France; Will spoke of lazy afternoons in New Orleans, the smell of diesel and whisky. “You know, you should let me cook for you sometime.” The invitation flew unbidden off Will’s tongue, loosened by rich wine. “I may not be so good at cooking generally but I know how to make a mean fish.” 

Hannibal paused slightly before replying. “Yes Will, I would like that very much. I’d enjoy anything you made for me.”

Will’s laugh echoed across the timbered room, drawing out a smile from Hannibal. “I highly doubt that Hannibal. All I can cook is fish and packet mac n’ cheese.”

“Perhaps we shall stick to fish then.” His tone was teasing as he stood up, collecting his plate. “I shall let the dishes soak for a while and then perhaps we can withdraw to the sitting room for a whisky?”

“I can’t have much more I’m afraid. I have the dogs to get back to.” Regret seeped into his tone as Will stood.

“Just a little night cap to see you on your way then?” Hannibal pushed, as they walked to the kitchen.

A sigh of defeat brought a triumphant smile to Hannibal’s face. “Just a little one then.” Will relented, placing his plate in the sink.

*  
The fire danced in the fireplace, creating swirling shadows on the walls and floor. The mixture of oranges and yellows flickered warmly, turning the whisky to an even richer gold. The settee was plush and comfortable, warmed by the glowing fire. Will sighed as he relaxed even further into the soft material. For once he felt fully sated- no hunger, no loneliness, no crushing weight of expectation. Only Hannibal’s reassuring presence, the warmth of his leg brushed against Will’s. 

Which brought forward a question. “Why did you move the arm chairs?” Will murmured, watching the light dance across his companion’s face. 

“I did not want the heat to fade them.” Hannibal replied, not entirely dishonestly. There was a shadow of truth but Will sensed that was not the entire reason. Rather than pursue it Will shrugged and let his head loll back. He felt boneless and tranquil, as if floating. The sense of calmness the surrounded him was unusual but welcome; lately, even his dogs and his little boat house couldn’t bring him this kind of peace. 

As Will drifted Hannibal watched the slender curve of his throat, the flicker of shadows that crawled over him, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. His own hunger and need rose only to be pushed down. ‘Soon, soon’ he promised himself, tightening his grip on the whisky tumbler. He reached out and gently pulled the glass from Will’s hand, letting his fingers linger. 

Will opened his eyes and looked over to Hannibal in question, only to freeze as he saw the look on his face. There was adoration, fondness, hunger, lust and a plethora of other emotions that Will couldn’t comprehend. Hannibal’s hands returned after placing the glasses on the side table next to them; despite the warmth of the fire they were ice cold, but no less loving as they traced over the tendons and bones in Will’s hand. They stilled and gently squeezed, pulling Will forward. 

‘This can’t be happening.’ Will thought in shock, ‘I must be imagining it, it can’t be real.’ But as Hannibal gently cupped his face he knew it was; he felt something in his very bones that called him forward, which made him gently press his lips to Hannibal’s. 

The second they met a fire began inside Will, making him surge forward, grasping Hannibal’s shirt. Their kiss turned savage, a mesh of tongue and teeth and dominance. Hannibal pulled Will so he was flush against him and stoked down his side and back, allowing his hands to roam wherever they wished. Will keened as he felt Hannibal’s hardness against him, swinging his leg over so he was left straddling him. 

Being so close to Hannibal, smelling him, tasting him just felt so right. The need was unfamiliar and frightening in its intenseness; he needed to get closer, needed to feel him against his flesh, dear God he just needed.

(Good boy this is what you want this is what you need)

(Be with me stay with me)

Hannibal’s hand slipped under Will’s shirt and traced over his heart.

(Become one with me melt into me I need you)

That voice which haunted Will’s dreams whispered into his ears, so much so he could almost feel the breath on his shoulder. He rocked against Hannibal, completely out of control, entirely at the mercy of some unknown instinct that drove him forward.

(Mate mate mate mine mine mine MINE)

Their frenzy was broken as a persistent knock echoed throughout the house. Will tore himself away with a gasp, panting harshly; Hannibal looked equally debauched, his usually perfectly styled hair was in disarray and his lips looked swollen and thoroughly kissable. Before they could get too caught up in their staring contest another flurry of knocks could be heard. Irritation darkened Hannibal’s eyes and he gently pushed Will off with a sigh; as he rose shame and embarrassment began to creep over Will. Hannibal left with a parting caress of Will’s face, leaving Will to stew in the fact he’s just made out with his psychiatrist and, more importantly, with his only real friend. 

He stumbled up and began to rapidly tuck on his rumpled shirt and redo his belt, which had somehow come undone. Voices echoed from the hallway and two sets of footsteps slowly approached the sitting room; frantically smoothing down his ruffled hair Will rose on unsteady legs to greet whomever Hannibal had allowed to interrupt them. 

A feminine laugh caused Will’s heart to sink as Alana and Hannibal entered through the darkened doorway. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were rosy as she looked at Hannibal with undeniable adoration; she soon realised Will was in the room when he awkwardly cleared his throat, looking anywhere but at them.  
“Oh Will! I didn’t know you’d be here. Normally it’s just the two of us at this time.” Her gaze swept between the two of them, impatience making her shuffle. 

It all clicked together- Alana’s presence at such a late hour, her expectance for Hannibal to be alone, her eagerness for him to leave. Mortification hooked its claws into Will’s chest and squeezed with all its might. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have not seen this coming?

Hannibal walked forward with his hand outstretched, the way one would approach a frightened animal. “Will.” He began but Will would not let him finish, would not let him use his lies. 

“Thank you for dinner Doctor.” Will sneered, striding past the pair, deliberately turning to avoid any contact with either of them. He needed to get out out out out. There wasn’t enough air, the hallway was too small, too constraining. He practically tore his coat off the hook, not bothering to out it on. His arm was caught by Hannibal’s strong grip and he spun to see Hannibal behind him. 

“Will, please. Let me explain.” Hannibal’s voice bordered on pleading as he gripped tight. Will tore his arm out of his hand and with a venomous look that was filled with betrayal and hurt, he flung open the door and left into the night. 

*  
Hannibal was frozen by the door as he watched the glow of Will’s car lights disappear into the cold Baltimore night. His calm almost placid appearance hid the raging beast within. He had been so close. He could still feel Will’s perfect weight in his lap, rutting with reckless abandon, could still smell him and his becoming. 

He was rudely interrupted yet again by Alana’s approach; her pale arms embraced him from behind, her breasts gently pressed against his back. “So, how about a beer?” She playfully whispered into his ear. With a sigh Hannibal turned and gently pushed her away (-rather than fling and watch her broken corpse collapse on the floor-) keeping his hands on her shoulders.

She tilted her head in confusion at his empty expression and distance. “Hannibal what’s wrong?” She reached out to touch his face only to find her hand caught in a tight grip.

“Alana what you did tonight was extremely rude. You knew Will was going to be here and yet again you do not respect my wishes.”  
“Hey, it’s really late I thought he’d have gone by now!” She sidled closer, a coy smile growing. “Besides, what does it matter if Will knows about us? It’s bound to come out eventually.”

“Because I expressly told you I don’t want people to know yet. And yet you take every opportunity to do the opposite- you do not listen.” In the gloom Hannibal’s eyes seemed to glow red and Alana felt a trickle of fear. “You never learn Alana. Go.” He threw her arm down and opened the door. 

“But Hannibal-” She wisely cut herself off and with slumped shoulders walked past. Alana aimed a hopeful look over her shoulder only to find the door shut behind her. With an annoyed huff she stalked towards her car, anger and disappointment raging though her.

But as she started the engine there was a faint instinctual feeling fluttering around the back of her skull.

Fear.

*  
Hannibal sat in front of the dwindling fire, his face impassive. The room was even darker now, lit only by the glowing embers and odd lick of flame. Will’s smell and that of their brief embrace lingered, permeating the air in a scent only Hannibal could smell. He replayed the moment over and over again, almost feeling Will was still with him. He tugged at the faint bond between them and could feel the shadow of Will’s hurt and pain; a frown creased his brows as displeasure rippled thorough him.

His darling Will should never feel unwanted. He was so very wanted- the only one Hannibal had truly wanted. Alana had yet again overstepped her boundaries; he had indulged her affection occasionally. She was a bright, beautiful woman, with a sharp mind and beautiful body. But then Will had arrived and everything else seemed to dim.

Hannibal had thought he’d lived a pleasant, satisfied life but in meeting Will found he’d been living in black and white. Will brought colour and life, life he hadn’t felt in a very long time. The feel of his skin was unlike anything Hannibal had ever felt, his scent intoxicating. And even as he began to change, his scent remained extraordinary and marvellous. 

And how his change was coming along. Hannibal could recall the faint bumps that grew along his back, his spine becoming sharper, darker; his fingers became ashen, tipped with claws. All temporary for now, but how astounding it felt. It never occurred to him to create another but Will, oh Will, he was perfect, the one, the only.

He leaned back, in the exact spot they had laid so recently. Above him Will was silhouetted, darkness creeping into his eyes and the barely there shadow of a crown of antlers blocked the glow of the fire.  
Before Hannibal closed his eyes they gleamed a blood red and he smiled with too many, too sharp teeth that shone in the darkness.

Will was beautiful now but he’d be so much better draped in feathers and an inky night that covered his skin. This was the image Hannibal closed his eyes to greet in his mind palace.

He didn’t move until dawn kissed the floor. 

*  
(So so close.)

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So second chapter's up! I had a quick look through and edited some of the previous chapter, but not too much mainly the odd word or sentence. So to sum up poor Will, Hannibal what're you even doing and Alana has horrible timing.


	3. And so the Devil Came to Take His Pound of Flesh

The words on Will’s laptop screen seemed to blur together as he attempted to read a staff email for the fifth time. The squiggles danced and swam in front of him, taunting him with their indecipherable code; despite the challenge, Will simply couldn’t muster up the desire to pay attention long enough to try much harder than a blank stare.

His stomach ached, as it had done for the past day and a half. Will hadn’t eaten a proper meal in over a week, having no interest in food, which had led to an onset of flu. Headaches had developed into a constant migraine, his muscles felt weak and lethargic and his insides lurched every time he caught a whiff of food.

Nobody had really noticed his slowly deteriorating state- Jack had continued to push him into case after case, which left him dizzy and drowning in the twisted minds of murderers and other criminals. The only person who would’ve noticed was the one whom he was desperately avoiding. Hannibal had called multiple times and had left numerous voicemails, all of which had been instantly deleted. A dull pain in his chest, which had nothing to do with his current hunger, emerged at the mere suggestion of Hannibal and the events of that night.

Nausea surged through him making him gag as he leapt up to reach the rubbish bin before he could empty what little stomach contents he had onto the floor. He bent over the bin but despite his gagging nothing came up; a burning sensation crawled up his torso while tears pooled in the corner of his eyes.

God, he was in so much pain. He felt as though he was on fire.

Numbness crawled up his legs as he almost convulsed on the floor. A cold sweat broke out as Will whimpered, overcome by the sudden surge of symptoms. He laid there for what seemed hours until they subsided enough for him to drag himself onto his knees; the odd tremor wracked through him in lessening waves that left him gasping but not completely immobilised by pain.

“So Will, I found the absolute best dog video, it is absolutely, oh my God!” Beverly’s cheerful voice turned worried as soon as she spotted Will curled over the bin. She rushed to his side, bending down to place her hand on his back. Her hand recoiled slightly feeling its dampness but she determinedly kept it there, rubbing soothing circles. “Will, you look awful! What’re you still doing here? Go home?”

She gently helped Will clamber to his feet and gently lent him against the desk. Her hand was blessedly cool on his burning forehead and a surge of gratefulness swept through him; of all the people who found him Beverly was one of the best. She was kind but forthright, funny and snarky, but most of all she didn’t treat him like he was made of china.

Will sucked in a breath and aimed a smile at Beverly. “Thanks.” He rolled his shoulders and rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I think I’m coming down with something.”  
“You think?” Beverly began to stuff papers and the laptop into Will’s bag. “You really need to go home. God Will, you look like shit.”

“I didn’t feel this bad when I left the house this morning.”

“And even if you did you’d’ve still come in anyway I bet.” Beverly scolded, looping the satchel over his shoulder and grabbing his arm. “Come one, I’ll help you to your car. You okay to drive?”

“Yeah, I feel a bit better.”

“If you crash I will not be happy. I need some form of intelligent conversation in the lab. Zeller and Price tend to do my head in after a while.”

“I’ll be fine don’t worry.” The pair got some odds looks as they slowly made their way down the corridor towards the car park, with their slow pace and Beverly’s arm looped around Will’s waist.

“You better be.”

Will’s silver car seemed out of place amongst the slightly more modern ones that littered the car park- while not outrageously old it was getting on in years and only Will’s mechanical skills kept it clinging to life. For once Beverly kept quiet about his aging car and simply stood by as Will opened the door and threw his bag onto the passenger seat. For all her bravado Beverly’s worry shone through the slight tightening in the corners of her eyes and mouth.

“Look, I’ll call you when I get in, ok? Just to assure you I’m still alive.”

With a sigh Beverly relented. “Ok. But make sure you do.” She gently punched his shoulder. “I’ll cover for you to Jack. He won’t like it but he’ll have to deal with it.”

“Thanks Bev.” The car dipped as Will dropped in and rumbled into life with barely any hesitation. “I’ll see you soon.”

“You better!” She called again with a smile and gave a little wave as he drove off.

*  
The journey to Wolf Trap seemed to pass in a haze. Will could feel another wave coming on and he was desperate to get home before it hit. The sight of his little house in the distance slowly getting bigger felt like a godsend; he could almost hear his dogs barking but that was his imagination of course. There was no way he could hear them from this distance.

( _The_ _limitations_ _of_ _humanity_ _no_ _longer_ _apply_ _my_ _dear_ _Will_ )

It was lucky no one lived near him as the pain that flashed through his head made the car swerve violently to the left. Will nearly snapped the key in the ignition in his haste to turn it off; he clutched his head as the pain receded slightly but left a sharp stinging ache. His stomach rolled and he scrabbled at the door. The floor reached up to meet him as he arched forward, the force of this retching making his back arch in a prefect curve.

Everything seemed to stretch and move, the trees lunging forward before suddenly retreating. Will shut his eyes and gulped down as much air as he could get while keeping his breathing steady- the cold air burnt his chest, filling his lungs with frigid air.

He rose unsteadily to his feet, clutching at the car for balance. His house was closer than he thought and he knew he wouldn’t be able to drive the rest of the way. It was at times like this he was grateful that his house was the only one along the road, which was an effective dead end. His car wouldn’t be a disturbance and would stop people bothering him while he recovered from the horrific flu he had developed.

The walk was slow and arduous- the uneven floor constantly attempted to trip him up and the light was almost blinding. The barking of his dogs was deafening and all he could do was open the door and allow them to roam free. The flood of dogs seemed to sense Will’s pain and so left him alone with a minimal amount of licks and fuss.

Will was vaguely aware of his companions running out into the surrounding field but he was focused on making it to his bed more than he was about them running off.

The light flickered and everything tilted- the pain reached new, unbearable levels, with all his muscles going into spasm. Will fell onto the bed his mouth open in a soundless scream of agony. Everything felt too tight, too much, too bright. His stomach felt like it was eating itself and his bones almost felt like they were snapping under the strain.

Will’s eyes rolled back into his skull and he succumbed to the pain.

*  
The sudden echo of pain slammed into Hannibal hard enough to make his drop his cup of coffee. The cup shattered on the hardwood floor, spilling the liquid everywhere including the tip of Hannibal’s handmade Italian shoes. He staggered in surprise before finding his footing and becoming absolutely still.

His placid exterior hid the hive of activity occurring within. Plans of what to do during Will’s transformation, what to do after, where to go, whether Will would appreciate Venice of Florence more- perhaps somewhere more wooded for his first couple of years. He would need to be taught and trained of course, so somewhere remote but populated…

Another echo of agony swept over him but Hannibal didn’t shun nor supress it. The agony of feeling your bonded change was to be savoured and adored; after all, nothing came without sacrifice and Will was worth everything.  
He calmly picked up the shattered cup and placed the remains in a cleverly concealed bin. The coffee would soon congeal on the floor but it wouldn’t be too difficult to clean up- the floorboards had been chosen for both their style and ease of cleaning.

Hannibal cancelled his appointments for the near future, citing family distress to satisfy his curious patients- he would have to be with Will as much as possible during the coming weeks. He could hardly leave his beloved to suffer on his own. The bond that would develop needed to be nurtured to grow into that between mates, irreversible and commanding.

He would need to transport Will from his decrepit dwelling to his own Baltimore home- though being so isolated would have it’s perks Hannibal felt it best if they remained somewhere more familiar, with everything he’d need to help Will through.

A slow, creeping satisfaction and almost happiness built within Hannibal. Soon everything would be perfect- he, they would finally be complete, finally be one, and he’d have an equal worthy of his love and adoration.

Together they would watch the world pass by and wither, and then dance on its ashes.

*  
Consciousness came and went for Will. Reality blurred into dreams with sharp claws and climbing antlers.

He was no longer aware of his own body. It was as if he was floating on a black sea, ready to be pulled under at any moment.

Or was he already under, enveloped in the dark waves?

He didn’t know.

He was gradually aware of cold hands on him, running over his soaking form. Something in him was drawn to the caresses and longed to reciprocate but lethargy prevented him. All he could do was whine and he wasn’t entirely sure he could do even that. He was boneless, empty, ready to be filled by something else.

Will was gently lifted, aware of this only by the changing tides. The scent around him was musky and spicy and real. He nuzzled into the feeling of safety, home, and once more drifted into the abyss.

He was unaware of the gentle, loving kiss placed on his forehead.

He was unaware of his dogs surrounding them, curious and defensive towards this friend turned stranger.

He was unaware of the shadows that grew from Hannibal that frightened the dogs away.

He was unaware of red eyes and a dagger’s smile.

*

_Beloved._

_You are home._

_You can never leave me._

_We shall be one and we shall feast on their corpses until they bleed our glory and sing our praises with their agony._

_I have waited for so long._

_You are **mine**._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took a while to go up and sorry it's a wee bit short. Hope you enjoy :)


	4. Fragments of Life

Jack was not having a good day. Bella was gone before he’d even woken up-something that was becoming too common for his liking- the coffee machine was broken so he had a killer withdrawal headache and his car tire had burst on the way to work. So it was starting out to be a very bad day.

Even Zeller and Price had the sense to keep the shenanigans down to a minimum, casting nervous glances every time he walked past. Beverly barely batted an eye, off in her own world with an uncharacteristic frown marring her normally happy expression. 

The blank white board dedicated to recent Ripper leads seemed to mock him from his office, the grotesque corpses leering from their shiny photo prisons. So many victims, so few clues. He couldn’t escape from the crushing weight of his failure to catch this monster; the cries of the dead called to him in the night, their dull eyes flashing from the shadows. Not even Bella’s heavy breathing could lull him to sleep now.

The lack of advancement was infuriating. Not even Will could seem to gain any ground. Each case seemed to crack him a little more, spider webs of instability splitting through the already thin veneer of sanity he clung to. 

Jack frowned. There was a distinct lack of Will in the incident room. 

“Where’s Will?” he roared, irritation colouring his tone.

Price and Zeller stole a glance at each other, unwilling to propel Jack into an even worse mood.

“He’s sick Jack. He’s not coming in.” Beverly however had no such qualms. She barely looked up from the file she was reading, steeling herself for the inevitable storm.

“He’s sick? He’s always sick but he saves lives dammit!”

Beverly sighed. “Not sick in the head sick, which is kinda insensitive by the way, he’s physically sick. I found him collapsed on the floor yesterday, puking his guts up.”

“At least he should have the decency to call.” Jack snapped, his eyebrows drawn tight. “Has Hannibal been in touch? Maybe he can sort him out?”

The three foresnics looked at each other. “Well if Hannibal calls it’ll probably be you he’d go to.” Price suggested. “If anyone know what’s up with him it’ll be the doc. They’re always together.”

“Not recently though.” Zeller pointed out. “Not seen them together for ages.”

“Maybe they fell out?” Price replied. “No offense but they’re both a bit, you know, quirky.”  
“Because you two are the epitome of normality,” came Beverly’s snarky reply.

“Enough.” 

Silence fell. No one messed with Jack when he took that tone. He huffed and strode back into his office, shutting the door none too gently.

“What’s up with him?” Price and Zeller merely shrugged and returned to their discussion of whether a live octopus could survive being eaten and somehow   
strangle to one who ate it from the inside.

*

Jack was now beyond annoyed and had moved straight into pissed. That Will was off supposedly sick was bad enough but that he hadn’t even had the balls to ring was even worse. Well if he thought he’d get out of it that easily he was in for a surprise.

There wasn’t even a shred of regret as he dialled Hannibal’s number. If Hannibal said Will was ok to work Jack would go all the way to Wolf Trap personally and physically drag him to Quantico. If Hannibal said he wasn’t, well, there was nothing a good attitude and a strong coffee wouldn’t cure.

“Hello Jack.” Hannibal’s voice sounded odd, with almost an echo like quality.

“Hi, it’s Jack. Have you heard from Will?’

“Will? Yes he called me last night. He is very sick, he will not be able to come into work for a while.” 

“Are you joking? For how long?”

“A week at least. Although I wouldn’t get my hopes up too much. It is very unlikely he will return at all.”

“Excuse me?” Jack’s tone became cold and tightly constrained. 

“Will’s work is extremely bad for him. He has taken my professional advice that he will end his practical involvement in consulting for you.”

“He is saving lives!” The resulting roar made those in the next room jump. “You’re meant to keep him sane and able to do his job! Not encourage him to leave!”

“Jack. I am here to keep Will safe and sane. It is his best interests I must look after not yours. I have a duty to my friend and I will not lie to him to appease your ego. My final words of advice to you? Leave him be.”

The dial tone echoed dimly in Jack’s ear, as he stood frozen in disbelief. 

This day was not going well at all.

*

That was one of the more enjoyable phone calls Hannibal could recall. Hanging up on Jack was a small pleasure long overdue. He wouldn’t be content with that of course- he had remarkably little survival instinct. Hannibal thought it wouldn’t be long before Jack turned up at his own home in search of his wayward profiler. To do so would be suicide of course, but Will deserved the satisfaction of tearing into the man who had torn so much from him.

A pained murmur reached him as Will stirred feebly, sweat glistening on his exposed torso. “Hush beloved.” Hannibal cooed, running a hand over Will’s trembling form. The phone was placed down, forgotten instantly, as Hannibal’s form curled around Will. The sweet smell of change saturated the air, hanging heavy and low. Shadows trailed over Will and encompassed him in their adoring grip. Hannibal slowly twined his legs around Will’s, no longer clad in paisley and cloth but instead clad in darkness. He sighed as every possible part of him pressed against his most precious thing, felt the fluttering heart, the clenching muscles.

So soon he’d be perfect, built in his God’s image, the ultimate companion he’d waited centuries for. 

The change was coming on nicely. Already inky black was sinking into his skin, shadowy antlers were slowly starting to form. Hannibal pressed small chunks of meat to Will’s mouth, who groaned wantonly with each piece he unconsciously devoured. His usually concave stomach was distended and Hannibal stroked it lovingly, imagining his hunts, his kills, becoming part of Will, sustaining him, changing him.

A hungry tongue darted out in search of more morsels and Hannibal chuckled softly. Instead he held out his own fingers. He pierced the tip of one finger and watched the blood slowly run down. At the scent Will eagerly began to consume the liquid, lapping it up. When that ran dry he began nibbling on the fleshy pads.

Hannibal didn’t even wince.

In order to bind Will to him so tight he may as well have been one with him he needed to be physically in him at such a crucial stage. Any meat he consumed now would become part of him forever and Hannibal was possessive enough he wanted to be part of him too. 

Only the best meat for Will.

Hannibal sighed in contentment.

The bond between them was blooming, becoming strong and beautiful. He needed it to be unbreakable before Will left this pleasant sated mind-set and became confused and hostile.   
Soon, he thought.

Soon

*  
Alana drummed her fingers as her mind wandered, lost in thought. Hannibal had been acting so strange recently; he had hardly any time for her. He’s been distant and even cruel. He never touched her and never smiled at her in anything more than a cool, professional manner. 

How he’d acted when she turned up the other day was simply unexpected and unexplainable.

She sighed.

Well, maybe she had been a tad rude. But it was only Will and she wanted to go public with them. She wanted to show the world how she’s managed to find someone as accomplished as her, someone refined and educated. Besides, Will and Hannibal were getting a bit too close; she knew Will was highly instable and didn’t want Hannibal hurt. She’d bring that up to him next time she saw him. Persuade him to see Will in a strictly professional role, to be the therapist he needed, rather than his friend.

She missed him. She missed his cooking, his intellect, his weird humour. She missed the way he caressed her before they’d kiss- she missed the feel of him between her thighs, the way his eyes would close and he’d hiss in pleasure. ‘O mylimasis, kaip aš skausmas už jus’.

She needed him back. And she needed to get to the bottom of his weird behaviour. 

*  
Beverly sighed. The most recent Ripper case was going nowhere. No clues, no witnesses and no goddamn break! She was sick of looking at the monstrosities he created and she was sick of seeing what it was doing to her team. Price and Zeller were starting to get tired of the same disturbing shit, Jack was slowly getting more and more obsessed and Will…

For once in a long time Beverly was afraid. Will was looking so bad those past couple of days, pallid and drawn. His stomach seemed to be constantly rumbling and his eyes had become darting and hazy. While they weren’t amazingly close, like her and the boys were, she felt the tenuous threads of friendship starting to bloom. So she was concerned. Very concerned.

Hence her decision to drive out to Wolf Trap to check on him. ‘All alone out in the middle of nowhere, with only dogs for company wasn’t so good when you’re sick’ she thought. The countryside slowly passed by as she pulled up the driveway to Will’s little cottage. She was met by a pack of dogs, who bounded up to her with wagging tails. Only the shaggy mutt, Winston she remembered, stayed back. 

She greeted them with kind hands and a gentle smile. As she walked up to the door a chill fell over her- the door was open wide. She cautiously proceeded forward and called out for Will. There was no reply and as she looked around she gathered that he hadn’t been home for a while. But in his current state she had no idea where he could’ve gone.

There were multiple water bowls filled on the floor and the huge bag of kibble had been poured out. 

Will was nowhere to be found; the fact he wasn’t here, in his sick state, and that his dogs had been left to fend for themselves told Beverly something was wrong. Very wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, so this is me trying to get back into writing and what better way than to write about my favourite fandom? Be gentle with me.


End file.
